


A little discussion

by LadyNighty12



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, I'm Sorry, M/M, Stay Safe People, idk - Freeform, marriage fighting, parents fighting, there's plenty mentions of that so please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-10-08 02:58:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNighty12/pseuds/LadyNighty12
Summary: “Uhh… hey Virge, Papa and Dad are just having a little discussion. That’s all. Just focus on me and everything will be a-ok, here we go!”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry but I needed the angst. Please don't read if "parents fighting" trigger you or upset you. I think there's nothing graphic but what do I know.  
> If you think I should tag something please let me know.  
> Also, please keep in mind that english is not my mother language. So there's gonna be mistakes, but feel free to mention them

 

They were at it again.

They had agreed to do the correct thing and talk in peace and with respect to each other, but it didn’t even last five minutes before they were screaming again.

Like yesterday. And the day before that. And…

Patton jumped where he was sitting on his bed, the sound of a glass breaking making his heart beat in a way that almost made it hurt. He exhaled, feeling how breathing was becoming a little hard and his body seemed to think it was cold because he couldn’t stop trembling.

He didn’t like it when his dads fought. They screamed mean things to the other, and punched walls and broke things, and their faces got red like it did in cartoons but it wasn’t funny. And sometimes Papa would leave the house for hours, and Dad would lock himself in his study to cry for exactly an hour before checking on them and do the things he would do on a normal day in a way that reminded Patton of robots.

With all the noise in the living room he nearly didn’t hear Virgil coming, but thankfully he was able to hear the sound of his socked feet running towards him so he could grab him before he fell to the ground.

“Vee! Don’t go running like that!” he held the little boy close to his chest, pulling away after a few seconds so he could look him over “Are you okay? Does something hurt?”

Virgil just whimpered, hugging him with all the strength his tiny arms had. “Scaed”

Patton’s throat felt as if he had swallowed the red ball he used to play with the neighbor’s dog.

“Are… are you scared, Virgil?” he whispered, his eyes quickly watering. Virgil nodded.

He was scared too. Papa always looked like he wanted to punch Dad, and Dad had been really close to hit Papa with the things he threw. And he was sad, because nothing was like it used to be. Papa didn’t sing them lullabies anymore, and Dad didn’t hum while cooking breakfast. They always seemed sad and angry, and it hurt Patton to see them like this because all his happiest memories came from his family, from a family full of love and laughter that was nothing like the bunch of upset strangers that they were now.

But he knew that right now his feelings didn’t matter, his duty as an older brother was first and it was to protect Virgil and make sure he was safe. Even in the place where he should never feel unsafe.

So he hugged Virgil, petting his hair and humming the tune of his favorite lullaby. He made sure to keep his face on his chest, so he couldn’t see his eyes trying to blink the tears away. He couldn’t see him scared.

He had to be brave for the two of them.

“Uhh… hey Virge, Papa and Dad are just having a little discussion” he pulled Virgil away from him just enough so he could look him in the eyes and smile with a happiness he didn’t really feel “That’s all. Just focus on me and everything will be a-ok, here we go!”

And even as he tried with all his strength to concentrate in doing silly faces to make his little brother smile, he couldn’t help but hear the fight going downstairs.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, first of all I want to thank you for your kuddos and comments! You keep my heart beating, people ;)  
> And second, this is not one of the outcomes. This is Logan's point of view, and the decision that he takes is the thing that separates the outcomes
> 
> Warning: people shouting, funeral mention, death mention, swear words

Logan was angry.

As a matter of fact, he had been angry for months.

So of course, he had to scream it in his husband’s face, making sure to remind him how everything about this was his fault since the problems started the day Roman decided work was more important than his family.

“You always fucking do this, Logan!” shouted Roman, and Logan took a little dark pleasure at how he seemed to forget to take care of his voice “You always throw all the blame on me! Well, newsflash Mr. Perfect, this problem is nothing but your own fucking fault” he snarled, his almost pearly white teeth looking quite different bared like that in contrast to when he smiled broadly. But he hadn’t smiled lately. Had any of them, now that he thought about it?

He sent that thought to the back of his mind, saving it like a potential argument to be used later in the discussion. Right now, he had better things to do, like scream right back at Roman and throw whatever he had managed to grab from the counter that was behind him.

He didn’t realize what he threw until it shattered into tiny pieces that could never be put together again. A Winnie the Pooh themed cup.

Patton’s favorite.

He loved to drink hot cocoa in that cup. He always asked him to put more marshmallows on it, and Logan added exactly two more. It didn’t make a real difference, but the look in his face at looking the top of the cup covered in marshmallows and then proceeding to name each and every one of them never failed to make Logan smile.

And now, it was broken.

And it was his fault.

Choking back a sob he stormed out of the living room, his feet almost running to his study and his trembling hands failing to lock the door as fast as he wanted them to. He dragged himself to the spot he always used, inside his desk where no one who entered could see him while at the same time being able to watch the door and most importantly, the clock.

_7:13_

He allowed himself to cry for an hour, not a minute more nor a minute less. He was a father, after all. And even if he didn’t feel with enough energy to do anything more than _exist_ , he still had to take care of his children and act like the functional adult he should be.

Moving down the hallway (figuratively) on auto-pilot, he tried his best to ignore the echoes of Roman’s shouts attacking his mind. But of course, he wasn’t so lucky and ended up thinking about it. What if he was right and all the fights and discussions were his fault? It had happened before, his ego clouding his vision and making him think that he could never be wrong, and that anyone that dared say otherwise was just a fucking idiot.

“ _You did call him a fucking idiot_ ” he thought “ _And you have been the one to start almost all fights, so yes, it is probably your fault_ ”.

Sighing, he found himself in front of Patton’s bedroom door. It was covered in stickers and drawings made by Patton, and it had a pretty baby blue color the same tone the bedroom walls were painted. He and Roman had actually decided on that color because the first time they met Patton he was wearing a baby blue onesie, being the only splash of color in a room full of black. Of course, they had met him on his parents’ funeral (Logan being a coworker of them), so everyone had been wearing black. But not Patton, no. His grandmother had decided against it, saying a different excuse every time someone asked her the reason. _‘It is bad luck’_ she said to Mr. Johnson. ‘ _It looks terrible on my grandson’_ was the answer the best friends of the couple received. _‘He doesn’t own any black clothing’_ she snapped the tenth time the same question was made.

But she had told them the reason the day all the paperwork to adopt Patton was finished.

“I couldn’t bear to think of him mourning” she confessed, rocking the baby in her arms with a softness Logan had never seen in someone “I couldn’t bear to think of my son and her wife watching their child be so sad so early in his life. That’s why I have to ask you something” she looked them in the eyes with such intensity he could still remember how it felt “Make him as happy as you can. That’s all I ask of you”. And they had promised to do so.

Logan couldn’t help but think they had broken that promise.

Slowly opening the door, he peered inside and smiled at what he found. Virgil was koala-hugging Patton, the two of them sleeping soundly with a blanket half-covering their bodies and a lot of stuffed animals surrounding them in bed.

Being careful not to wake them, he tucked them into the bed and decided against taking Virgil to his own room. They looked so peaceful sleeping together that it would be a crime to separate them, and something made him think the absence of each other’s presence would make them upset. It was sweet, how fast and easy they had bonded.

Virgil was three years old, and had only been with them for a year. He had been so wary of adults when they met him, always shying away from them when they tried to play or talk with him. But Patton? He might as well had been Virgil’s brother since he was born, because it didn’t even take a minute to have them playing with the sock puppets the orphanage playing room had.

That was what made them decide to adopt Virgil, and upon hearing his story their resolve only strengthened. Virgil’s father had been killed by his wife in an attempt of getting his insurance money, but her plan was discovered and she was currently in prison. And she would be there for the rest of her life.

And now, looking at his sons sleeping without a care in the world, was when Logan really realized just how much they both had suffered in such a short time.

What had happened to Logan when he was three? When he was seven? Nothing, nothing at all. He had a nice childhood, with loving parents and an awesome older brother living all together in a cozy house. So then why?

Feeling his hands trembling again, he mulled over that question.

_Why?_

Why did his kids have to go through that?

And most importantly, why was he causing them more pain?

Logan took a shaky breath, making up his mind. He had to talk with Roman.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might make a chapter with Roman's point of view, but what do you think?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for the wait. So, I decided to write Roman’s pov cause you know, that’s only fair.  
> Warning: mentions of fighting, swear words. Also, please understand I know nothing about theater so...

Roman had an amazing day.

Between reading the reviews from his latest show (they had loved him!) and getting everything ready for the next show they were going to put on (a musical wrote by _him_ ), he thought nothing could change the good attitude he had. Well, he thought wrong.

Sighing, he watched as Logan ran upstairs, leaving him with a myriad words battling to abandon his throat. Who the fuck did he think he was, getting angry at him over nothing and then leaving when he refused to be the one blamed for all of this?

He tried to calm down, he really did. But his throat felt sore for screaming so much, and knowing that it could have been avoided if his husband had just fucking acted like a normal human being made it impossible for him to calm down. He hoped the pain would go away soon, because he was on tour and had to go to Boston in a week and he could not give less than the one-hundred percent in his presentation.

Ah, the tour.

Putting a kettle of water on the stove to make some tea, he sought comfort on the memories and expectations of the tour.

It was perfect. Six different cities in the country, giving presentations for a month and then resting at their hometown for another one before going to the next city. It was all he and his crew had ever wanted, and the public was reacting way better than what they had wished for.

Of course, as Logan had so _kindly_ reminded him every time he had the opportunity, he had been away from home a lot. But it wasn’t that bad! He called almost every day and they had video-calls twice a week when he was on tour. And he always brought them presents and souvenirs! Without mentioning the fact that when he was at home he spent all of his time (if he wasn’t at the theater) with them. He played with the kids, cooked dinner and even washed the dishes while Logan got the kids ready to sleep.

For the first months he thought they’d been doing fine, but then Logan had snapped at him while doing breakfast (the smell of burnt bacon and the echo of a dish hitting the wall still deeply ingrained in his brain) and ever since it seemed like every conversation they had was doomed to end in a fight.

“Honestly, what’s his problem?” he thought while grabbing his cup of tea and walking to his study (that was, thankfully, on the other end of the hallway as opposed to Logan’s). At first, he had considered his husband was just feeling a bit lonely and was too stubborn to admit it, but no matter what he did (serenate him, buy him the nerdiest books he could find, send him poetry texts) nothing pleased him so he gave up.

He sat on his armchair and sipped at his tea, trying to ease the tension on his shoulders. Dammit, they really hurt. But why? He didn’t change his exercise routine and he couldn’t remember if he had lifted something heavy. He most surely didn’t. Not even the kids.

Carefully placing the cup over the desk, he concentrated on that last line of thought. When was the last time he had picked up his kids? Probably before the tour started.

_God_. Almost eight months and he hadn’t even realized.

He didn’t get it, why had he stopped? He loved to pick up his sons! He loved to give Patton piggy-back rides when they went out, or to pick Virgil and move him to simulate he was flying (it never failed to make him giggle). Heck, he even loved to pick up his husband! It usually happened when he was overworking himself and refused to leave his study to go to sleep, so he, being the loving husband he was, picked him up and carried him like an exhausted and stubborn sack of potatoes. And sometimes, he would just do it for fun, like when Logan was baking cookies and he picked him up, and when he finally lowered him to the floor he made him dance in the limited space of their kitchen while the cookies were ready.

In fact, being able to pick up his loved ones whenever he pleased was the main reason he began to exercise when he was younger.

“ _Really?_ ” Logan had asked back when they were in high school and they were nothing more than weird kids with big dreams “ _You exercise just because you want to randomly pick up people?_ ”

“ _Not any people_ ” he had said, his always restless hands drawing nothings in the air “ _My future kids. And my future husband_ ” he could remember he had winked at him, causing Logan to drop his book in his face with a blank expression.

So what was left of the Roman that wanted to be strong for his future family? Of the Roman that had bowed to love and hold and cherish his husband until death did them part? Of the Roman that promised to protect his lovely sons?

He could just sit there, thinking of answers to questions he hadn’t bothered to think before. His cup of tea was cold now, but he didn’t notice nor care.

And then, there was a knock at the door.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll get to the first outcome ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally, after a long wait, we get to see the first outcome! :D  
> Warnings: none that I can think of? Nothing different from the other chapters, at least  
> PD: I wouldn't like to call this "The happy ending" because... well, nothing can really guarantee happiness. Not because the parents stay together the familiy will be happy. But, if you want to call it that, go ahead!

He could see the surprise in Roman’s face.

Well, he couldn’t blame him. He just knocked twice and then let himself in, something that he had never done before. And of course, there was also the fact that his face was still a little blotchy and he wasn’t supposed to be near Roman in the next eight hours, or at least that had been the routine they had inadvertently agreed upon.

Needless to say, Logan was sick of routines.

He closed the door, and being awfully aware of his movements, walked until he was a mere meter apart from the chair he was sitting on. Roman didn’t take his eyes off him for a second, and Logan wondered what was he thinking of. Did he think he was there to fight with him again? Was he getting ready to yell at him?

Taking a deep breath, he looked him in the eyes.

Actually, Roman’s eyes were the first thing he had noticed about him back when they met. They were the most beautiful tone of hazel he had ever seen, so expressive and shiny, that his  younger self  couldn’t do more than to stare at them. He used to get lost in them, to look at the way they seemed to sparkle when he excitedly invented stories for the cloudy forms in the sky; and to feel despair when those eyes reflected the sadness of their owner for even something so simple and yet so demonstrative of the kindness of his heart. 

And now, those eyes looked at him, tired and seemingly searching for something.

He had never been a spontaneous person, and he didn’t know whose fault was it, if of the way too many emotions he was feeling, or of the fact that he hadn’t really plan ned what he was going to say, but the first thing that came out of his mouth wasn’t something he would have normally say. 

“Do you remember the day that you met me?”

Because he did. Oh,  _he did._

He could clearly remember that summer day, the first of the year. How he had gone out with his brother  to the ice cream parlor, and this weird kid with braces had been handing out pamphlets for the play his theater club would do, and how he had brighten up when they were the first to actually  _read_ the pamphlet and  to  promise to go.  He could remember that dimpled smile, that squeaky voice that tried and failed to be smooth, those hands that almost send flying the pamphlets with his mannerisms, those eyes that shined brighter than the sun. 

And to think he would end up marrying that weird kid.

“I swear it was yesterday, I knew with a glance that you were the question, and you were the answer, that the world would make sense again if I held your hand...” and wasn’t it funny that now he couldn’t bear to keep looking in his eyes? That he lowered his gaze as if the floor had the answers he wanted?

He had never been a theater fan . Of course, that had been before Roman made his way into his life. Before he went to see him in  _“_ _The Wizard of Oz”_ , before he became his friend and forced him to watch the bootlegs of his favorite shows and even go to a few of them. 

And one that would become one of his favorites since the moment he saw the rendition of Roman’s high school theater club was Bare: A pop opera.  It was such a great musical, and Roman’s interpretation as Jason had almost brought him to tears. He had loved it, still did, even if he hadn’t heard the soundtrack in years. 

So then why, now that he wanted to have a serious conversation with his husband, the only thing that he could think to say was one of the show’ songs?

“Some day you’ll look back, and I hope you’ll remember...”

He didn’t, he honestly didn’t know what he would have done if Roman hadn’t decided to grab his arm. Would he  had keep on singing? Would he have  started sobbing ? He didn’t know, and that was way out of character from him. But then again, so was breaking into song, or entering his husband’s office, or allowing him to see him like this. 

God, he was a mess.

“Try to see, it’s not goodbye” Roman whispered, his wobbly voice taking Logan by surprise. He turned his gaze from the floor to his face, and gasped when he saw him on the verge of tears. 

Roman had always been an emotional man. 

He cried the first time Logan had called him his best friend,  and he had do so for fifteen minutes while a panicked Logan tried to comfort him. He cried on Patton’s first day of school,  the other parents  looking astonished at the way he sobbed as if the kid was being sent to jail and not to his classroom. And God, how could he ever forget his face on their wedding day? All shiny eyes, damp eyelashes  and a smile that never failed to take his breath away. 

So it really wasn’t a surprise to see him crying.

What surprised him was how  _heartbroken_ he looked. 

The gears in his brain began to work, noticing how Roman had skipped to  a verse that was near to the end of the song and trying to understand why  he had do so . The answer hit him like a train: Roman was probably thinking he wanted the divorce. 

_Did he?_

No. He didn’t want to give up.

So he grabbed his hand, the hand with the wedding ring they both had designed “We’re forever, you and I”  he mumbled,  letting out a laugh that sounded almost like a sob as he remembered. 

Because hadn’t been ‘forever’ a part of their vows?

Hadn’t Logan promised to love him till the end of Pi? Hadn’t Roman promised the same till the end of time?

They had,  and it wasn’t the first time it happened. 

The first time was said jokingly under the high school bleaches, barely a week and a half after they became boyfriends. And then when they went to prom together, when they made a blanket fort in their shitty apartment to take a break from a particularly tough finals week, when they sat on the rooftop of their new home to watch the stars.

But the first time  they meant it like a promise and not like an expression of love was on their wedding day. 

And God helped them, but neither of them were one to break a promise.

“Even though I’m a bad husband and a worst father?” Roman asked, his unoccupied hand cupping his cheek. 

“Well, neither of us had been” he answered while leaning into the touch “I think it’s time to stop pointing fingers and actually talk things through, don't you think?”

And so they talked. It wasn’t easy, but they tried their hardest to come with a solution that would make the two of them happy. He explained how absent Roman had been, how it seemed like work was the only thing in his mind. And Roman agreed, but said that Logan could have tried to explain sooner, instead of starting a fight. They spent a good part of the night talking about their feelings and making apologies, holding each other close as if fearing that the other would disappear if they let go.

The next morning they made breakfast together, and Logan almost  broke into tears  when  Roman picked him up while singing ‘ Once upon a dream’.  He sang along, and kissed him when he put him back down. But of course, that was just the begging. Roman seemed to be full of energy, he thought as he watched him perform Disney song  after Disney song. 

He was so distracted that he didn’t hear when Patton and Virgil entered the kitchen, until their giggles alerted him of their presence. They looked happy, the happiest Logan had seen them in a long time, and it wasn’t hard to know why.

“Oh! The little princes are awake!” was the only warning the kids got before Roman picked them up and proceeded to dance with them too.

Grinning, he started to serve breakfast while hearing his family loudly sing and dance to ‘Almost there’ like the weirdos they were and Logan loved. When the song ended, Patton walked to the table and began to help him, and every time he caught his eyes he would give him a big smile that Logan quickly returned. Things were really looking up.

Or they were, before Patton saw the broken pieces of his favorite cup on the ground and Logan was reminded of the awful fight they had last night, and how having a cheery breakfast didn’t fix it, much less the other stuff the kids had to put up with for months.

Feeling guilty, he knelt besides his son and gently put a hand on his shoulder “I’m really sorry, Patton… I...”

“It’s okay, Dad” he sniffed with a shaky smile “It was… just a cup”

But it wasn’t just a cup. Or rather, it wasn’t just the cup.

It was the fact that even if they didn’t fight anymore (something practically impossible, given that Roman and he had fought even since they met; and Logan was pretty sure in the future the kids would have fights with them too), it didn’t magically erase all the sadness they had caused them, it didn’t bring the time back.

And he was so, so sorry for that.

“You know what, champ?” Roman walked towards them with Virgil in his arms “There’s a new pottery studio downtown that got amazing reviews. We could go there later and make our own cups! How does that sound?”

Patton gasped, and judging by the light in his eyes and the way he started bouncing, Logan could tell he loved the idea.

The breakfast was full of excited talking from Patton, seconded by the happy babbling of his brother and Roman’s suggestions to improve the ideas his sons had. Because no, they probably couldn’t do a unicorn cup, but maybe they could draw one on it before it dried?

Drinking his coffee, Logan sighed. Yes, he was guilty. Yes, he hurt his kids. Yes, he hurt his husband. But he wouldn’t wallow in self-pity, much less let it happen again. This was the present, a new opportunity to learn from his mistakes and do his best from now on, and to help his family to heal the scars the fights had caused them.

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they were singing is "Bare" from "Bare: A pop opera". You should watch it, is amazing! I fell in love with it :'D
> 
> The next chapter is the last one, and *spoiler alert* they don't stay together

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably write more of this, with two different outcomes :)


End file.
